


Smile (If Only For Now)

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Angst, Devotion, Fluff, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Mick heard the chaos before he saw it.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Smile (If Only For Now)

Mick heard the chaos before he saw it.

From somewhere within the apartment, there was the distinct sound of something heavy - a shoe? Probably one of Nikki's combat boots - being thrown against the wall, undoubtedly leaving behind a mark and perhaps a dent that would be explained away with awkward lies. And then, a second later, a door slammed, followed by the sound of heavy breathing. 

Like a man who had just run a marathon, the breathing was heavy, labored, with short pauses and hitches. Mick didn't like it, but as he locked the door (and pushed on it, just because it was a shitty door and never latched properly) and took off his jacket, the reality of the situation became known, and it was that he really didn't have a choice. 

" _Fuck her...!"_ Nikki whispered, as if it was a terrible secret that couldn't be divulged to anybody besides himself freely. His shadow hovered on the wall, too skinny and too angry, body shaking in the darkness of the hallway. 

Pausing, Mick frowned even deeper, which was impressive in itself, because there was no way it could get any worse. "Fuck who?" He asked, voice purposefully light, airy, uncomplicated. Mick needed to fight fire with ice, or whatever the saying was. 

Anyways, Mick knew that he needed to stop the flames before they could get out of control, and there wasn't many ways on how to do it besides grabbing a bucket of water and hoping for the absolute best. 

Nikki came storming into the foyer, pretty green eyes wide and wild, chest rising and falling in quickly and heavily. "Fuck. Her." He repeated slowly, as if Mick was an invalid who didn't understand the English language and the many ways to express anger. 

"Yes." Mick agreed. "But who?" 

Footsteps echoed as Nikki walked into the kitchen, and then the sound of glass breaking came and went, thousands of fragile shards being tossed against the wall. " _HER!"_ Nikki repeated, like it explained everything when, in reality, there was a thick confusion following the repetitive answers. 

Mick rolled his eyes skyward, counted down backwards from ten, and tried again, knowing that he'd only get a similar reply. "Do I know her?" He settled on asking. 

The sound of glass being tossed paused. "My mother." Nikki said softly, and then he let out a bloodcurdling scream, and, judging by the sounds of things, was now kicking the wall, as if that would solve all of his problems. 

Oh. 

"Oh." Mick said succinctly, walking into the kitchen, hands stuffed into his pockets as a chill swept through the apartment. "Don't do that. You're gonna break your foot." He said. 

Nikki kicked one last time before he grabbed another plate. 

"Stop it, will you?" Mick said irritably. "You're only making yourself a bigger mess to clean up." He glanced at the growing pile of glass on the floor, glittering like jewels underneath the dying sun. 

"I don't care!" Nikki's voice was growing hoarse. "I don't care! I'm fucking tired of caring about her!" He looked down at the plate, and then he tossed it back onto the countertop, where it clanged loudly but, thankfully, did not break. 

Mick stayed in the kitchen, quiet as a church mouse, hands still in his pockets, watching with calculating eyes as Nikki began to pace. 

"I'm so tired of her! Money is all she goddamn fucking cares about! Oh, no, don't give a fuck about your son - don't care about how he feels or what he's doing, just ask if he's gonna send money." Nikki entangled his fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging roughly, not caring if it hurt, needing that pain to ground him. 

"Stop hurting yourself. It isn't gonna get you anywhere." Mick said, knowing that he couldn't show how angry he truly was, biting his tongue to keep a million words at bay. Nikki would think that Mick was angry at _him_ and would only get defensive in response to his hurt before Mick got to reassure Nikki that he was the last person to be mad at in that moment, that it wasn't his fault, that those millions of bad things weren't his fault. 

"I want to hate her so bad. Why can't she just - just - " Nikki paused, struggling, his words only truly good when they were being written down on paper. He looked like he wanted to say something, but like he couldn't force the words out, like there was something blocking him. 

Mick waited, patient as ever. 

"Just - _care about me."_ Nikki looked defeated, and he leaned against the counter, as if all of the fight was gone from his bones. 

Mick hated it. 

Oh, yes. Those forbidden words, the certain four-lettered 'L' word that could never be spoken. 

"I don't know." Mick said truthfully. "But it's not your fault, and it's not your responsibility. If she can't love you, then you didn't do anything to deserve that." 

Nikki lit a cigarette, staring a little too long at the lighter before shoving it back into his pocket. "I must've done something." He muttered. 

"No." Mick shook his head. "You're a hard-headed, stubborn pain in my ass, but you're also so many good things. You're fucking brilliant, for one. You're persistent and intelligent and selfless, and you deserve to feel loved, and she doesn't deserve to know you. You didn't do anything..." He paused. "So stop thinking like that. What happened back then is bad enough, you don't need to torment yourself, too." 

Slowly, Nikki nodded, his gaze focused on the cigarette, but there was a spark in his eyes, and, in a way, he seemed to almost accept the words. "Okay." He agreed.

"Okay." Mick allowed himself to breathe again. 

Nikki smiled ever so slightly, and with that, Mick knew that his world could start spinning, and his heart could keep beating, and the rest of the pieces could fall into place. 

Because, with that smile, it meant that everything was alright in Mick's world, if only for a little while. 


End file.
